User blog comment:Biggren/Silvir Shadows/@comment-7207319-20150205200008/@comment-3135907-20150423031346

"Hmm, how 'bout it, mate?" he turned the torch to Brother Rufonn. "Eh?"

The squirrel recorder stared at him with a look of incredulity. Surely the rat wasn't actually going to do anything.

"I asked, 'ow 'bout ye? By the devil's chinwhiskers, answer me when I'm talkin' to ye!" The rat dealt the squirrel a hefty backpaw strike to the face, sending him reeling on the rope's end. Rufonn managed a half-whisper. "You can do whatever you will to me, but leave the shrew alone."

"Well then. That's better. Yer wish is my command!" the rat had one of his cohorts roughly seize the squirrel's chin as Tweng held the torch slowly and deliberately to it. The air filled with the acrid, pungent smell of burning flesh as the squirrel thrashed and screamed when the fire came in contact with his face. Mulker Tweng finally removed the torch, dancing crazedly and cackling inanely. "Take that, Alcu! How does it feel now that you're the one below an' I'm the one above, eh now? Answer me that, scummy!"